They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. He drew her close up to him with a strong, steady pull. “I never saw Courtlaw with her—never heard her speak of him. She had eaten little or no tea, and her mid-day meal had been worse than nothing. Soon the trunk, portmanteau and hat box were ready. “I’d give anything to kiss your neck. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered.
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